


Wisteria

by Unforth



Series: Tumblr Ficlets: Supernatural [20]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Bottom Dean, Come Inflation, Creature Castiel, Dendrophilia, Double Penetration, Explicit Consent, Familiar Castiel, M/M, Oral Sex, Plant Castiel, Sap as Lubricant, Semi-Public Sex, Sounding, Telepathic Bond, Tentacle Sex, Witch Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-11-04 10:53:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10989450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/pseuds/Unforth
Summary: Tumblr ficlet written in response to the prompt: So what about witch or mage dean who accidentally enchants his plants in a spell gone twisted.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amberpeace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amberpeace/gifts), [VampAmber](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampAmber/gifts).



> You can follow me on Tumblr at [unforth-ninawaters](unforth-ninawaters.tumblr.com).
> 
> Make sure you read the prompt! 
> 
>  
> 
> [~original post~](http://unforth-ninawaters.tumblr.com/post/161023146043/if-youre-still-taking-prompts-im-inspired-by)
> 
>  
> 
> Prompt, from amberpeace: If you're still taking prompts, I'm inspired by this piece of plant art we chatted about. So what about witch or mage dean who accidentally enchants his plants in a spell gone twisted. The kinkier the better
> 
> This...um...actually kind of didn't end up as kinky as I'd originally planned? Sorry, it was getting long...
> 
>  
> 
> [Inspired by this extremely NSFW GIF set.](http://profoundbondages.tumblr.com/post/160572024378/hentaioverl0ad-the-botanist-great-pixel-art)

Tugging on his gardening gloves, Dean stepped out into his garden. Long experience had taught him that personalized attention to his plants helped them grow, improved the quality of his spell casting. 

“Lookin’ good today, Ruby,” he murmured, tenderly moving a curled tendril of vine. It had wrapped around the neighboring rose bush; Dean instead looped it around the trellis placed for the purpose, secured it with a loose loop of twine pulled from his tool belt, and moved on.

Once, he’d resented the extra effort involved - they were  _plants_ , all they needed was water and sunlight and fertilizer, right? 

“It  _is_  a little sunny for you, Lilith, isn’t it,” he muttered. His nightshade wilted in the heat; Dean hurried to his shed, pulled out one of the wooden boards he used to protect his bushes in winter, and placed it over Lilith to give her shade.

They shouldn’t need care, shouldn’t need love. 

“Niiice, bloomin’ kinda early, Michael!” Dean spared a caress for the full lily blossom. Brown pollen smeared a dark line over his gloves.

Dean planted them in their preferred level of shade, watered them daily, and the bodies buried beneath the apparently placid backyard provided the nitrates and nutrients the plants needed.

“Anna,” he scolded gently, and he could swear he saw the basil plant flinch. “You know I hate to do this…” He pinched off the buds starting to form at the end of three stems, but left the fourth. “…behave, please.”

They did well when provided for, but they  _flourished_  when Dean said he cared.

“Can’t believe how  _big_  you’ve gotten, Cas…” Dean paused before his prize, a wisteria that vined and twisted over an ever-growing chunk of his yard. When he’d first gotten the plant, it had been a mere clipping from another witch’s yard. Now, it flourished, normally purple blooms edged in red as if bleeding. Thick  stems, heavily burned with flowers and leaves, twined over the awning Dean had assembled. Murmuring praise under his breath, Dean tended the wisteria, tended his garden, and looked after his flock. Some witches had covens.

Dean had his garden.

* * *

 

“…porttitor quis augue in efficitur!” Dean concluded with a flourish. Anticipation twisted through his insides. Any time now…

Nothing happened.

Any time now…

Nothing happened.

_Any fucking time now…_

Nothing.

Fucking.

Happened.

Scowling, Dean slapped a hand against his leg and cursed. He’d sacrificed a fuckton for this damn spell, meant to summon a familiar, and in the end he had  _bubkis_. The acrid smell of burning wisteria stung Dean’s nose, curled shame through him. He’d had to kill Anna, badly damage Michael’s routes, and Castiel…Castiel had given a full half his trunk and vines to the roaring blaze that had been  _supposed_  to summon his animal companion, and instead seared his skin and stung his nose and mouth.

With a wave and a muttered spell, Dean extinguished the flames. The wood continued to crackle, steaming, and he reluctantly cleaned up the now-useless spell components. He’d spent how much fucking money, how many stinkin’ hours, and expended how much damn hope - not to  _mention_  hurting his plants - and  _this_  was his reward?

Fuck his life.

And now he was going to have to find another serial molester or some shit to kill and bespell and bury to revitalize his garden.

 _A witches work is never done_ …

* * *

 

Listless, Dean moved about his tasks for the day. He was more disappointed than he cared to admit, certainly more disappointed than he’d suggested to Sam when he’d texted his brother to let him know he’d failed. Sam was fricken  _four years_  younger than him and  _he’d_  had a familiar for two damn years, had moved out on his own, was doing just fine. This was Dean’s third time trying for a familiar.

Even just having someone to talk to.

Someone other than his plants.

God, Dean hated to acknowledge that he was  _lonely_.

Rustling outside offered small comfort. Yes, he’d damaged his garden badly in his attempt to execute this spell, as he’d damaged it each time. Yes, he hated doing that. Yes…he quietly accepted…he was  _extremely_  reticent to make a fourth attempt, knowing what it would cost. But the plants would recover. He’d grow a new basil plant, repair Michael, and Castiel was resilient, the most resilient plant had ever seen. Castiel would regrow.

Fertilize the house plants. Done.

Check the bundles of drying herbs. Done.

Research local missing persons in search of an appropriate body. Done.

Wash the dishes. Done.

Clean up the wisteria ash. Done.

Darkness fell before Dean was ready for his last round in the garden. The weather had been brutally hot, and night was his best time to water and care for his plants. With a sad sigh, Dean pulled his gardening gloves on and went outside. Knowing how much he’d hurt his plants -  _my closest friends?_  - made visiting them bittersweet. 

He had so much to apologize for.

He apologized to Ruby as he wove her vines up and up. He apologized to Michael as he discovered a spared bud hiding among the leaves. He apologized to Anna as he found a few roots he’d missed - maybe the reason his spell had failed - but at least he’d likely be able to regrow her from those. He apologized to Lilith for taking her friend as he removed her shade.

And Castiel…

Sap like blood flowed down the damaged part of Castiel’s trunk. Tears flooded Dean’s eyes. “Shit, man,” he murmured, kneeling down beside the plant. “I’m so sorry. Look…never again. It’s just a fuckin’ familiar. If it means doing this to you…I won’t try again. I hope you can ever forgive me.”

A breeze blew leaves against his cheek, soft and tender as a caress, and Dean felt an inexplicable twinge of forgiveness.

“Thanks, Cas. I promise – I’ll do my best.”

Bark brushed against his arm, flowers swayed in the breeze, and Dean’s sense of equilibrium returned.

He had no right to be lonely.

He was never alone in his garden.

* * *

 

A rhythmic _clack-clack-clack_ woke Dean to pre-dawn gray. Blinking, he looked blearily around for the source of the sound.

A wisteria branch had shifted overnight, wood clattering against his window as it swayed in the breeze.

The sound was strangely comforting, a reminder of his epiphany the night before.

Smiling, Dean lay back down.

“Thanks, Castiel.”

_Clack, clack, clack._

Castiel had recovered unbelievably well. Wisteria spread over the whole yard, shading Lilith, providing a surface for Ruby to continue to grow up. Every morning, sunlight backlit the purple blossoms, cast stunning, glowing shadows into Dean’s room.

Day by day, watching Castiel flourish, Dean felt increasingly forgiven, and increasingly certain he’d made the right choice. No matter what Sammy said, Dean didn’t regret relinquishing his aim of summoning a familiar.

He had everything he needed.

* * *

 

_“Ohhh…”_

_Pleasure flickered behind Dean’s eyes as a rough fingers brushed up his leg. It had been so long, so long since he’d been with someone and God he’d missed that feeling._

_This was the role a familiar should have filled._

_This was the dream that Dean had given up when he’d resolved to never hurt his friends again_.

Jerking awake, tears beaded in the corner of Dean’s eyes. He didn’t regret his choice – he _didn’t_ – but it was sad to know he’d never feel a lover’s touch again, never have anything but his own fingers and fancy enchanted dildo to keep him company through the long nights.

 _Clack, clack, clack_.

Castiel rattled against the windows, a wonderful reminder of how _worth it_ Dean’s sacrifice was.

Something rustled – leaves in the same breeze causing the vine to hit the glass, certainly, and something rough brushed over Dean’s foot.

Wait, what?

Dean sat up…

…Dean _didn’t_ sit up. Something held him down, bound his wrists, secured his ankles.

 _Shit, shit, shit I’m under attack, I’m_ …

Something gentle brushed against his cheek and a breeze ghosted against his feet.

He hadn’t left the window open.

Struggling ineffectively, Dean tried to focus on what was going on. The _something_ glided over his chin, as soft and kind as any touch a lover had ever given him, and Dean shivered. The touch felt rough like bark.

 _Clack, clack, clack_.

 _Deep breathes, Dean_.

Relaxing, calming, Dean lifted just his head.

The window was shattered, shards on the floor glittering with reflected moonlight. Wisteria vined around the frame, reached into the room…

…reached beneath the blankets…

Hope buzzed hot in Dean’s chest.

_A familiar for a gardening wizard…_

_…is it possible?_

“Castiel?” Dean whispered.

The unknown something – no, not unknown, it was a leaf like a hand, growing from the end of a branch that showed as a swaying area of deeper darkness in the night – _Castiel_ brushed Dean’s cheek.

_I know what happens the first time a familiar is summoned._

_Is this okay with me?_

_Do I accept this familiar?_

_…_

_God, do I._

Letting his head drop against his pillow, Dean spread his legs.

In a heartbeat the vines went from soft and gentle to rough and forceful. The blanket vanished, the pajamas Dean wore shredded, as Castiel wrapped around Dean’s legs, slithered over his thighs, encompassed his body. The window was choked with vines, so powerful that Dean was lifted into the air. They pulled his legs wider apart, something wet smeared over his crack, and the first soft moan escaped Dean. He wanted this, he wanted this so _badly_. Heck, the dildo he’d enchanted for himself was _carved_ from Castiel’s wood.

_How long have I loved that plant?_

_Forever, I think._

_Please…please…_ “Please, please, pl—” A woody vine pressed at his lips, interrupted his pleas, and something thick and sweet diffused into his mouth. _So sweet, so good_ , Cas’ sap, same as Dean had drunk during the latest attempt to summon a familiar.

Castiel had grown so well since then.

Dean should have seen this coming.

Desperate, Dean lapped at the vine in his mouth, sucking up the sap. A second vine crawled over his cheek, and one thrust against his perineum. Bliss swamped him, forced away even self-recrimination. Once they joined, this would be real, this would be forever, and Dean _could not weight_.

 _Do it!_ He’d have screamed the words to the ceiling if he could have spoken.

If Castiel was truly Dean’s familiar, he might have heard. Once the ceremony was consummated…

 A vine slid against Dean’s hole.

Another wrapped around his cock.

A stem teased at the slit of his cock.

A second vine forced it’s way into his mouth.

_Do._

_It._

_NOW._

_Castiel._

A vine punched into Dean’s ass, way inadequately smoothed by thick, sticky sap. A scream caught in Dean’s throat, pleasure washing through him so powerful he choked on sobs. _Do it_ repeated endlessly in his head, and he almost thought he could hear an answer, _so hot, so tight, so good, so good_ in a deep, guttural male voice.

_You’re everything I dreamed of in a familiar, Castiel._

_You’re everything I dreamed of in a witch, master._

_No…no, Dean, we’re equals._

_…Dean…beautiful Dean…_

Another vine pushed into Dean’s ass, spreading him wider, fucking him hard, the way growing smoother. No one vine was thick, but as a third entered him, and a fourth, Dean cried; he’d never been spread so wide. Touch rippled over his cock, something teased into his body through the slit, and Dean sucked eagerly on first one vine, then another, then another as they teased his mouth. Flowers tickled over his belly, leaves twisted his nipples, and Dean arched against the vines holding him as he came for the first time.

Cold, thick liquid flooded his mouth, stabbed freezing into his ass, dribbled into his cock.

Awareness flooded him. Dean was…Dean was _so much_ _more_ than Dean. He was aware of the glow of moonlight, the supportive grip of soil, the soft caress of water over his roots. He was aware of the vines fucking his ass, the bliss of releasing sap and dew deep in a long-craved body.

_Are you okay?_

Dean had no idea if the thought was his or his familiar’s.

_Don’t stop._

That idea, though, he _knew_ was  shared. Without a pause, the vines pushed into him deeper, harder, and Dean’s orgasm crested again, again, as pleasure rebounded between them.

 _Don’t stop_.

_Never._

_My Dean._

_My Castiel_.

Dean would never be lonely again.

It had been a long, sad time, but it was absolutely worth the wait.

Something wiggled within his cock.

With a broken groan,  Dean came again.

_Oh, my Castiel…_

_Perfect…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My last call for prompts, VampAmber requested a continuation of this story. So here, have another chapter.

“Aw, come on, Sammy, who put the bee in your bonnet?”

Bees, butterflies and hummingbirds flew through Dean’s home, flitted from purple blossom to purple blossom. After Castiel broke four windows seeking entrance, Dean removed the glass from every frame. A few days later, he took down the doors for good measure. He didn’t need them; now that he was bonded with a familiar, he was nigh impervious to the heat and cold, and he’d been a powerful witch _before_ he was completed. With the support of a familiar, augmenting his magic, enhancing his awareness, he _dared_ anyone to intrude upon his home. Cas vined through the rafters, blossoms dangling from every beam, every light fixture, curling around his kitchen cabinets, cradling his bundled dried herbs, sheltering his house plants.

“Hardy har,” snorted Sam. They were a city apart but Dean could hear Sam’s eye roll through the phone line. “Dean, what you’re describing is impossible.” A vine slid beneath Dean’s robes, curling around his leg, and Cas whispered affection and desire in Dean’s mind. The feeling was a combination of words, emotions, and sensations beyond what Dean could describe, beyond what any human had ever experienced before. “Plants _can’t_ be familiars!”

“So you don’t believe me,” Dean grumbled. To Cas, being with Dean was the bliss of sunlight on bark after long, dark months of winter, the joy of water inundating roots after a drought, and he shared that with Dean, let Dean bask in his complex emotions.

“Of _course_ not,” Sam said. “Plants don’t have brains. They don’t even have nervous systems! There’s _no way_ that one could have the sentience necessary to initiate the bond. And don’t even get me _started_ on consummation. They don’t have muscles. Or bones. Or exoskeletons. And they have neither a penis nor a vagina. And Dean—” The thin tip of a vine wiggled against Dean’s hole and slid within him. Eyes rolling back, he bit his lip against a content sigh. Castiel radiated amusement and pushed in deeper. “I get it.” Dean started. Oh, right. Sam was talking. Focusing was getting more difficult. “You love your garden, and it tears you up to hurt your plants only to fail at summoning _again_ , but they’re just _plants_.” A second wisteria vine pushed into Dean. “You have _got_ to get out more.” A tendril slid over his cock and pushed in to Dean through the slit. His knees shook and he’d have fallen if not for the two thick branches that dropped from the ceiling and curled beneath his shoulders, catching him, supporting him, embracing him. “Pizza and beer, my place, 7:30 PM.”

“No,” Dean snapped. The need to sound like he wasn’t losing his damn mind on pleasure made him sound harsh, but he didn’t care.

“What? Just _no_? Why not?”

“Because—” Dean choked on a groan as a balled up vine punched into Dean and pressed against his prostate, nubby bark massaging him. “Because I wouldn’t ask _you_ to go anywhere without _your_ familiar. Cas is rooted _here_. You and Jess come over if you want, but I’m staying.”

“Dean, do you have _any_ idea how insane you sound?”

“Yup,” gasped out Dean as a spurt of sap thickened in him, spread him wider. “You wanna prove me wrong? You come, take a look around, and tell me how _impossible_ having a plant familiar is. Invitation is _wide_ open...”

Dean was _wide_ open.

He had no idea how Sam responded to the invitation, but mercifully the line went dead just as Castiel slipped a sappy vine into Dean’s mouth, and Dean’s eyes rolled back and shut with bliss. Stretched tautness was already filling his insides; Cas withdrew one sated tree limb only to press into two more eager for release.

_Don’t worry, Dean. I’ll make sure your brother realizes the truth._

_Let me take care of you._

Dean didn’t know which of them had the thought and he didn’t care. Giving himself over to Castiel’s ministrations, he moaned around the vine in his mouth, moaned through his first climax, already anticipating his second, his third, and his fourth.

By the time Sam got there that night, Dean would be wrecked.

 _Good_.

* * *

“Holy _shit_ ,” Sam spluttered, furious and shocked. “Dean, what did you _do_?”

“Got a familiar, Sam,” said Dean, rolling his eyes. Gesturing Sam to the front doorway, Dean brushed a curtain of flexible branches, rustling leaves and lush flowers. Eight of those had been inside Dean earlier. Sap yet slickened his ass, left sticky trails down his thighs, made a bulge of his belly. He was so relaxed, so sated, so happy, that even Sam’s indignant exasperation couldn’t phase him.

“This isn’t a familiar, this is...this is _insane_!”

“You keep saying that,” agreed Dean mildly. Proud that he only limped slightly, he made his way to the kitchen, Sam trailing in his wake, pulled the fridge open, and pulled out two beers. With a resigned scowl, Sam took one and popped the top off. Jess fluttered on his shoulder, trilling a disapproving note. The sparrow could shape change into a woman. No one expected Sam to have sex with a bird roughly the size of his fist.

Dean wouldn’t trade for all the fucking tea in China. Heck, he wouldn’t even trade for the celibate tea in China.

Castiel glowed like sunshine in reply to Dean’s private joke.

“Look, you want to prove to me that this monstrosity is your familiar? Fine. But looking at this?” Sam’s gesture took in the prolific growth filling the window over the sink, coming in through the back door, trailing over every edge, draping every surface with purple flowers, filling the air with sweet perfume. “All I see is more evidence that you’ve gone off the deep end. You actually _live_ here? Dean, I’m seriously getting _very_ worried abo—”

“Hello, Sam.”

Dean and Sam jerked around simultaneously at the sound of a rough deep voice, achingly familiar to Dean.

 _Surprise_ , whispered that same voice in Dean’s head.

A man of bark stood in the doorway leading out to the garden, naked, leaves artfully draped over his anatomy, wisteria blooms curling about his face in place of hair.

Dean was shocked, but Sam was more so, stumbling backward. With a distressed squawk, Jess took to the air, vines curling out of her way to make room for her to fly. Exchanged silent, pleased sentiments with the wonder of plantdom standing before him, Dean turned to his brother and forced a smirk onto his face to mask his wonder and curiosity.

“Cas, meet my brother Sam,” said Dean. Heavy footsteps and protesting creeks spoke to Castiel approaching. A solid hand fell on Dean’s shoulder. “Sam, meet Mr. Impossible – Cas, my wisteria tree – Cas, my familiar.”

“I’m not leaving without a play-by-play on your first night,” said Jess’ light voice from where she’d landed on a branch above. Leaves tickled at her features and she cooed.

“Oh God,” Sam groaned. “No – anything but that.”

“Fine,” said Jess. “Cas—”

“Castiel,” Cas corrected in his rumbling voice.

_Would you prefer I call you Castiel too?_

_No, Dean. You’re different._

“Castiel, let’s leave these two idiots to their beers and pretending they’re not _both_ imagining Dean having sex with a tree,” Jess said crisply. Taking wing, she flew out the door, circled, and hovered, framed by sunlight. “You and I have familiar things to discuss.”

 _Call if you need me_. Castiel turned and followed Jess into the garden.

“See?” said Dean smugly. “Jess believes me.”

“I guess I do, too. Now...how about we never talk about it again. Deal?”

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interested in requesting a prompt of your own? I have an AO3 post where I periodically take prompts, so subscribe to me or subscribe to the "[Call for Prompts](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11408007)" post, and next time I ask for prompts, why not [drop me a note](unforth-ninawaters.tumblr.com/ask)?
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr at [unforth-ninawaters](unforth-ninawaters.tumblr.com).


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